SeaMist and Butterflies
by Apeiron
Summary: "She hit me." Not a very good start for Poseidon and Sally's relationship but a little trust goes along way. The Fates have more in mind for Poseidon and Sally than just 18 months. As long as they can survive the Gods that want to keep them apart.
1. Vacation in Maine

**A.N**_**. **_I decided to take the concept of Sally and Poseidon and put my own twist on it. That means that I changed how Sally looks, her age when she had Percy. Let's face it, Rick Riordan left a story untold and I want to see how it could have gone. I own nothing. I just love Rick Riordan's world and wished to play in it a little.

Sea Mist and Butterflies

She tilted her head back, she saw herself in the rear view mirror of her parents battered old station wagon. She was nothing special. Her hair was thick, red and curly. Her face still holding the fullness of a girl on the cusp of being an adult, her lips were plush and full, a size too big for her face. She was tall, tall enough to join the girl's basketball team had her parents been able to put the money together to buy her uniform. Instead of joining the girl's basketball team, she was regulated to the status of being a freak. Even the taller boys wouldn't date her, she wasn't fragile enough. She didn't have the delicate glow of the smaller girls. Even the size of her breasts didn't get her a date but they did get her noticed. The boys would make comments behind her back, the girls would sneer that she had obviously had surgery. None of which was true, but none of the girls felt like believing her. They were cruel, manipulative monsters that liked attacking in order to cover something dark about them.

"Mom, we there yet?" She asked. her voice rough from disuse. She had pouted in the backseat of the car from the moment her father opened the door. She hadn't wanted to go on vacation. She wanted to go to camp but her parents couldn't afford it. They couldn't afford anything.

"Not yet Nuala, settle back, Maine is quite a distance from the city."

"It's _Sally!" _She interjected. She hated Nuala, her father had insisted that she was named that to carry on with the family heritage. As if being a full-blooded Irish was still something to brag about. In a world of growing, global travel being full-blooded was being increasingly rare. Everyone seemed to be half one thing, half another or another mixture of everything.

"Nuala is a good strong name," her father chimed in, his eyes briefly leaving the road to look in the mirror. "You should be proud of your heritage, not many people can claim that they are still a pure blooded-"

Sally rolled her eyes and sank back against the worn seat of the car. Her father would go on to talk. His speech was the same one that he had used for years. "Yeah, if Ireland was so great, how come you and mom didn't stay there?"

"That's enough, try to enjoy yourself," her mother said softly. She rested her hand on her husband's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. They had won the trip unexpectedly. A summer long vacation, everything was included except for the transport. It was located in Maine; they would have a private beach. All they had to do was take care of the house. It'd be the last family trip they would take before Nuala… Sally would go to college.

_How am I going to enjoy myself? I'm miles away from everyone. I'm going to have the worst summer, _she thought.

At seventeen, she was trying to be older than she was. It left her with more of an attitude and less maturity. She lowered her head against the window and sighed. There was only so much of nature that she could take. She was used to the hustle and bustle of the city. She missed the sounds of cars; she even missed the sounds of her neighbors as they yelled through the too-thin walls. She didn't miss the private school that she got into because of a scholarship but if that was all she had to hate, she considered herself lucky.

She kept dozing, unable to find any silver lining in the cloud that was the vacation. Gradually, she came to realize that there they had stopped and her parents were getting out of the car. She climbed out slowly and stretched. She turned her face skyward and basked in the cool sun for a moment before she felt a bag connect with her chest. "Oof! Damn it dad!" She yelled as she had to clumsily grasp for the bag and hold it to her chest. "You could have warned me!"

"You were wool-gathering. I thought it would wake you up."

Sally scoffed and shifted the bag to one hand. She walked to the trunk of the car and grabbed another. "I got it mom," she muttered as she turned away and headed up the steps into the cabin. She wrinkled her nose as she smelled mothballs and old wood mixed with seawater. "This place stinks," she said. She walked into the small room on the main floor. A single wrought-iron bed frame holding a twin sized mattress was pushed in the corner; there was a dresser, a closet, and a nightstand that completed the empty, cold room. The window was open, the white lace curtains pulled back, exposing the ocean only a few hundred feet away. The only good thing about the room she had picked.

She dropped the bags on the floor, sat down heavily on the bed and winched when the bed let out a loud squeak. "Great, I have a prison bed," she grumbled. She leaned down, her hair falling out of its tight braid. She unzipped the bag, pulled out the clothes that her mother had folded and stuck them in the dresser, uncaring in what drawers they landed in or if they remained neat. Her photo album was put on the nightstand, her small stuffed owl was set on her bed, and her nightlight was plugged in, not wanting to have to deal with sleeping in a strange room in the dark. She tossed her grandmother's quilt over the foot of the bed, tossed two blue pillows at the top and regarded what she had done. "It looks sad," she said with a shake of her head.

Sally gave the room one last, long look before she left, closing the door shut behind her. "I claimed that room," she said to her parents, pointing over her shoulder to the room that was off of the kitchen. "I figured you two could have the upstairs," she said.

The young woman caught the looks that her mother was giving her father. The sly, secretive looks that her father answered with a fleeting touch to her hair, his hand traveling down the side of her face. "Ew, I'm still here," she said as she slid around them. She closed her eyes and forced herself to ignore the sound of her mother's rich laugh and her father's pleased, rumbled answer.

Her feet hit the firm sand and she hurried away. Her parents would be busy for a few hours yet and though she was used to the sounds of their lovemaking since their apartment was so small and the wall were so thin, she had an entire expanse of beach to escape to. Her parents deserved privacy.

Wind picked up. It teased more hair out of the braid; the sun disappeared behind a cloud. She kept walking, staying just out of the way of the growing tide. Her footprints were left in the sand briefly but the tide washed up unexpectedly and washed them away. She yelped when the cold water hit against her feet. She darted back, her shoes soaked. "Great."

She sat down heavily in the sand, her fingers worrying at the wet knot that held the laces together. She grunted, pulled and finally just wrestled the shoe off. She tossed it behind her, and then removed its twin. She would get them on the way back. She pushed herself back to her feet, just in time to miss the next wet lap of water. "Knock it off!" She yelled into the surf, as if it could understand her.

"What the…" She shielded her eyes as she saw what looked like a young man out on a surf board. The image couldn't seem to be brought into focus, as if there was something preventing her from seeing it truly.

"Oh…Gods," she whispered as she realized something. The man was paddling towards her. Her heart lodged itself into her throat, her mind a swirl with different emotions. _Get a hold of yourself girl. You haven't even seen him yet. _She reminded herself. Yet, he kept moving towards her. The fog that seemed to settle in her mind wasn't becoming any clearer; sometimes it looked like he was paddling towards her. The next it was like the water was lifting him from the water. She was torn between the desire to run away and the desire to stay put.

She stood up, her body tense, preparing to run. _Stranger danger. Remember, just because he might look good from far away doesn't mean that he looks good clos… _

Sally felt a jolt. He was close enough to see his outline, not enough to see his face. It wasn't his face that she was looking to at the moment. Her eyes were locked on the gold, three pronged weapon that he carried in his left hand.

"That… is definitely _not _ a surf board."

**A.N. So ends the first chapter of Sea Mist and Butterflies. The next chapter will be from Poseidon's perspective and should be done in a couple of days. Leave me feedback if you like it. If you don't, I'm more than willing to listen to your complaints but remember, I am using the books and the movie as mutual inspiration, meaning that I am drawing from them and also from my own head. Everything will make sense, I promise. **


	2. A Bet is Made

**A.N. I own nothing; Rick Riordan just made a world that I want to play in. Note, I am changing how the Gods look to how I perceive them Please, don't start screaming that they look different from the book. I know this. **

**Chapter 2**

"Brother, what are you doing?"

Poseidon heard the rumble of his oldest brother's voice and he turned from the globe that he had been gazing into. He and his brother could not look more dissimilar. His brother, the God of Gods was a walking magazine advertisement for men's sexual glamour. His long blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, his right ear was pierced with a platinum hoop, his sky blue eyes showed devilish immaturity and arrogance. He exuded sex and no woman could resist his charms.

Poseidon hated him for that. Every woman that he desired, Zeus could take from him. Even Amphitrite, his Queen that he had been married to for millennia.

Poseidon shook his head; it would do nothing but please his brother if he knew how angry he was over the affair, "nothing, Brother, nothing at all," he sighed as he turned back to the globe. "I was thinking about going surfing," he glared at Zeus, "after all, you took my consort away."

Zeus laughed; he reached out and clapped his brother on the shoulder, hard. "It is not my fault that Amphitrite decided that she would rather sleep with the older brother than the middle one." He saw his brother's glare turn to a scowl, his sea-green eyes deepening in color till they were as black as the true ocean bottom. The fountain, a gift that Poseidon had granted to Athens and had brought back with him when Athens fell, started to tremble. The sea-water rose, each drop held in the wall of water, his control of the seas was absolute.

"Easy Poseidon," the God-King said as he slid a leg behind him, crouching slightly. His left hand sparked with electricity. He did not need his God-bolt, not if Poseidon was going to control sea-water. "I do not think that you want to get upset over one bitch. I doubt that you have bedded her in centuries. She called out my name earnestly, her nails ran down my back, she wanted _more _Brother, and out of respect for you, I declined."

Poseidon didn't love Amphitrite. He cared for her, but Gods rarely loved. He dropped the water back into the fountain and turned back. His eyes tracked the waves, deciding where he should go. "I am taking a vacation," he told Zeus, hearing the electricity subside, "I think that I should escape from Olympus for a while. I cannot stay here while you gloat over sleeping with my wife. I will not be the laughing-stock of Olympus." _Again,_ he added in his mind. He watched as the world turned, watched as it expanded so he could make out the fine details of the waves. He wanted somewhere without many people.

_Perhaps I should have been kinder to Amphitrite; she has been a loyal wife even if she has been boring. She was a mistake that I made in my youth. I was swayed by her beauty and found out too late that she was all beauty, no substance. _

Zeus reached over Poseidon's shoulder and gave the globe a spin. "How about we make a little bet while you're gone?" He asked. He stopped the globe, "we haven't played a game in a long time. Not since we bet that Hades couldn't get Persephone."

Poseidon scoffed, "look at what happened. Demeter decided that she wasn't going to let the crops grow and we had our first winter. Still, he was intrigued at the idea of taking a bet, so that he could win, beat his brother.

"One girl, you pick. You have to make sure that she's a mortal woman. You stay loyal to her for as long as you can, no wavering. You're upset about Amphitrite, now is your chance to find a woman and stay with her but you have to make sure that she stays with you as well," Zeus teased, the plan was forming in his mind. He had to make sure that his brother went along with it.

The Water-God stiffened, "you're making the assumption that I can't keep a woman? Is that what everyone is saying now?" he asked as he turned, facing his brother. His eyes were murderous as he tried to figure out what his siblings were saying about him.

"There is no assuming about it, Brother. Everyone knows that you've lost your touch with women," Zeus laughed as the globe kept spinning. "Do you dare to say that I am wrong?"

Poseidon fought for control. In the era of technology, there was less that he could get away with. Every time there was a tsunami, an earth quake or a ship lost at sea, it all brought attention to him. He had to make sure that he didn't scare the mortals too much. When mortals were scared they tried controlling things. Gods were meant to be the ones in control; he held to that, it was all he believed in. The only thing he held sacred. "I say that you're wrong, _Brother. _There is no mortal woman that can resist me," he turned back to the globe and stopped it, putting a finger on a spot on the globe. "I'll go here, I'll find a woman and I will win the bet. As for the duration, I'll set it. One year. Give me one year with a mortal woman, without our siblings bickering and causing trouble. This is our bet, between you and I. Do you agree to it?"

The Thunder-God laughed when his bet was agreed upon. He nodded. "Agreed. You have one year with a mortal wench, to do as you please. If you win the bet, then I give you back Amphitrite. The memories of her indiscretions gone, her body as chaste as it had been before I had lain with her. If you lose then I get to keep Amphitrite, birth all the children I want on her and you cannot dispute that right."

A tick worked at Poseidon's jaw, he would not be able to lose the bet. No matter what, even though he did not want Amphitrite back, he could not allow his brother to be with her. "Done." He said, turning his back on his kin. He caught his reflection in the fountain. He smoothed his hand over the rough beard, trimming it with a thought till it was more stubble. He ran a hand through his black hair, making it shorter. His eyes, the tumultuous ever-changing color of the sea during a storm, settled to grey. His body was lean and strong, the Greek ideal. He was a woman's view of perfection.

He disappeared, sea mist lingering for a moment before it faded as well. He chose a location that was slightly close to Olympus. He decided on Maine. The surfing wasn't perfect but he wasn't able to go anywhere else. California was full of blondes, want-to-be blondes and women that once were blondes. He remembered Helen of Troy; he would rather not want a woman that a war could be started over. He surfaced from the water, for a brief moment.

A flame-haired woman sat on the beach.

_Red haired wench, _he thought with a laugh. He saw her pouting features, her long frame. He tried to see better, wanting to see how she truly was. He nearly rose from the water with his powers and then remembered, _mortals scare easily. _

He pulled a glamour around him as easily as he breathed. He felt the brief tickle as a false skin slid over him. He had the urge to shake it off, like a dog, but soon it felt nearly natural, like a glove that was slightly too tight, just an annoyance, not a true bother. His trident, his natural God-weapon was made to look like a surfboard.

He laughed, a more mortal sound as the waves rushed up and over her shoes. He couldn't help playing with her. He watched as she took off her shoes and he kept moving through the water. He knew that he would be her dream. He stepped from the water, dripping wet and as sinful as ever. He walked over to her and sat down. "Hello darling."

Poseidon preened as her eyes wandered over his bare chest. "My name is Poseidon and I'm a college student—"

"Bullshit."

"Excuse me?" he arched a brow, "you're a rude little thing aren't you? You could at least tell me your name."

She stood up and brushed off her pants, she threw him a look that he couldn't comprehend. Disgust? Confusion? Fear? Whatever it was, it wasn't lust and desire. The feisty red-haired female was storming away from him. Her feet sinking into the wet sand. He leaned back on his arms, the sand not sticking to him. He watched her firm behind and imagined what it would be like to grab it.

_She'd probably smack me. _

He blinked at the thought.

What female would dare to smack him?

He got up, running after her. His long legs quickly covered the distance between them. He reached out, grabbed her arm and tried to stop her. "Hold on there, I just want your nam-"

She turned around and hit him, hard.

Poseidon reeled back, his hand touching his cheek. Again, he watched her run away from him. No one had dared hit him. The rage built, the waves rose and he bitterly tried to keep his emotions in check. _Insufferable…_

_So, you picked your woman, Brother. _

Poseidon jolted at Zeus' voice in his head.

"No, not her. Any woman but her. She's a, she hit me!"

_You said that you could get any woman. That woman is the one that you're going to seduce. _

"But she's worse than the gorgons," he grumbled as Zeus' presence faded. He shook his head, cleared the last bit of Zeus' voice from his head and set to trying to figure out who the woman was. He sat down on the sand and rubbed his cheek.

It was going to be a very long year.

**A.N. So ends the two introduction chapters. From now on, (with few exceptions that happen later) the perspectives will be melded together. Keep reading, next time, you get to see how Poseidon and Sally really interact. **


	3. Fire and Water

Chapter 3: Fire and Water

**A.N. I still own nothing. Sally belongs to Rick Riordan. Poseidon belongs to himself (and for this story, I assume to Rick Riordan as well.) **

Sally slammed the door. The window panes rattled as the young woman stormed into the kitchen. "I hate it here!" she yelled. Her mother looked up from the book that she was reading, blinking in confusion. "We have to go home, now." She ordered. She walked to her mother, put her hand over the book and glared at her.

"That is enough," her father said, his brogue thick. Sally froze. The tone booked no argument. Her father wasn't happy with her; it was time for her to make amends with her mother before he got too angry with her. He could tolerate many things. Her attitude, the way that she spoke back to him but he would never tolerate her speaking down to her mother. "Nuala Jackson, you sit down and tell us why you hate it here," he said. He pulled the old plain wood chair for her to sit in. One of the legs wobbled and she looked at it dubiously. A brow arched as she looked at her father. "Sit."

She sat.

The man ran a hand over his graying beard; his sharp green eyes took in his daughter as she scratched at the table with her nail. "This is the last vacation that we are going to have as a family. You're going off to college soon and there are those costs. I don't make much money, your mother can't work, you should be happy that we are here."

"What? That we had to win the trip? That we couldn't afford to take one on our own? That we're living in someone else's house? Yeah, it's great Dad. I still don't know why I had to come. You guys could have come without me," she muttered. She was trying to forget the sight of the man that had walked from the water. She hadn't seen him out surfing when they had arrived. It was like he had suddenly appeared, out of the water, and what was with the pitchfork?

Her father started to say something, a knock on the door interrupted him. "I'll get it," he sighed tiredly as he pushed himself away from the table. His daughter's self-righteous, entitled attitude was wearing at the old Irishman.

Poseidon stood outside, his hair wet and hanging around his face, his lips relaxed though his eyes seemed disgruntled. The speech was prepared, he would yell at the young woman who had hit him. Then he'd lay on the charm. She'd swoon, he'd win the bet. He'd spend the year getting pampered by the red haired vixen. He would return to Olympus, claim his wife, banish his wife and reclaim his place. The thought pleased him.

He blinked, "you're not the woman who hit me," he said as a man opened the door. _Zeus, you wouldn't set me on a woman that is already married…_ of course Zeus would. Gladly. "Who are you?"

Sally shifted, she shook her head. _There is no way. _She heard his voice drift in and she twisted in her chair. "What are you doing here?"

Poseidon pushed his way into the house, easily brushing past the other man. "Excuse me." He said belatedly. He looked over his shoulder, he softened his gaze. _You like me, you want me here. _ He said, using some of his power but it washed over the man and then fell away from him. While the man didn't see through the mist, he wasn't affected by Poseidon's thoughts. The girl must have inherited something from her father, or her mother, making her stronger than both, strong enough to be able to see through the mist. He heard the man stutter in protest but he was only focused on the woman that was seated. "You…" he flashed his best smile. It worked for centuries.

"Got something stuck in your teeth?" she asked, her eyes narrowing at him, "where is your pitchfork?"

He looked confused. "Pitchfork?" The light dawned in his eyes and his face flushed. "Ah, you're confused. There is no 'pitchfork'. I was out surfing when I saw you, I thought that you looked lonely and could use my company," he said. Her father put a hand to his arm and he brushed it off in annoyance. "Not now, I'm conversing with your daughter."

"Unless that was some sort of phallic symbol that you carry to make yourself feel better about your own inadequate manhood… you were carrying a pitchfork in the water," she said crassly. Her mother inhaled sharply and she flinched. "Mom, I'm sorry," she amended quickly, her hands moving like an anxious bird.

"Apologize Nuala," her mother ordered firmly as she stood up. She walked up to the tall man that had invaded their home and held her hand out to him. "In case she refuses, I will apologize for her. I am Margaret Jackson, my daughter Nuala has been angry at the world today."

"Nuala?" Poseidon said, his mouth forming around the word as if he could taste it. He found it pleasant but harsh. Not quite fitting the fiery woman at the table. He looked down as the mother, Margaret, held out her hand. _It'd be more fitting if you kissed my feet. That was how people used to supplicant to Gods. _He thought darkly, and not for the first time. He shook the woman's hand quickly, a sharp stab of electricity passing from her hand to his. He jerked back and shook out his hand, his eyes narrowing at the woman. She looked at him innocently, her brown eyes tired. Her skin was pale, her body wane. Even the effort of standing seemed to be taking the strength from her.

_She's dying. _

The thought struck him. He looked at her harder. He saw the way that her lips were bruised, her body was newly washed. _She had been with her husband recently. Her strength comes and goes but soon it will be less strength and more waiting for the end. _He felt no pity for the woman or for the broken party that was assembled in the house, trying their best to pretend that everything was fine. Mortals died. They had lives like mayflies. Brief, hopefully bright, but he could hardly differentiate one from the other. He pictured how it would be if he put Mortals in a glass jar and shook them like children would shake mayflies. The affect was disturbing. Mortal intestines and body parts bent at sharp, wrong, angles did not bring him pleasure.

The thought of the young Nuala, lying underneath him, arching and crying out his name; that pleased him. He would concentrate on that. "I'm Poseidon." He said finally, when an awkward pause settled on the room. He cleared his throat, trying to dispel the looks that Nuala's parents gave one another. "My parents were Greek; they thought that it'd be funny."

"The Gods that my family believed in would have thought such a name to be blasphemous, the child cursed because of that," Sally's father said. His arms crossed over his chest. "I am Randolph, you can call me Sir."

Sally groaned. Her freakishly tall height and her father's overbearing personality, combined she was left alone. "Dad, leave him alone. He only came here to find out my name. Now you gave it to him. He can leave now."

"I don't want to leave," Poseidon said softly. "I'm alone here; you and your family are the only ones that I have seen on the beach for weeks. I could use some human companionship. And, you did hit me, I think that you owe me that much."

"Speaking of that," Margaret turned to Sally, disapproval showing on her face. "Why did you hit him?" The innuendo laced through her tone. What did he do that was inappropriate?

The young woman fought for an answer, her dark eyes closing for a brief moment, "he scared me," she settled on finally. The doubt registered clear on her mother's face. "He did! One minute I'm alone and the next moment, there he was. In the city, I would have screamed. Here, who would have come? No one."

"The city?" Poseidon asked, "New York City?" he purred. To think that the feisty female was in his territory, he could have spied on her whenever he wanted, yet his hand tingled. He remembered the touch from the mother. Something was different about the family, at least Margaret.

Sally declined to answer. She stood up, shoving the chair back. The legs caught on the uneven wood floor. It toppled over, the sound echoing in the room. "That's enough with the question session. Poseidon, you were leaving. Mom, Dad, I'll go show my new _friend_ out," she said.

Poseidon smirked as the woman walked up to him, braced her hands on his arms and shoved. For a moment he didn't move. The woman couldn't move him and he proved it. "It was nice to meet you Margaret, Sir," He walked back to the porch again, closing the door behind him. "They seem like nice people."

"Shut up!" she ordered, turning on him quick enough that he had to take a step back, nearly stepping off of the porch. "That little: 'I'm just a lonely surfer guy' might work on my parents but it won't work on me. You came out of the water carrying a pitchfork."

"It's a Trident."

"Quiet," she said, continuing as if he hadn't spoken. "You walk into my house and try to make yourself at home. Well, it won't work. What are you?"

He noted that she hadn't said 'who.' The young mortal was more perceptive than he had given her credit for. She had seen through the mist and was able to see what he really looked like, what he really was. _And she's still not falling into my arms. Maybe she's one of the modern Artemis followers, or was it the followers of Diana? _"Nuala,"

"It's Sally."

"It's my turn to talk," he said, mimicking what she had said to him just moments before. _Sally. _That name fit better. It meant nothing to him, but it fit her. Somehow. _Sally Jackson. _The name reverberated through his body, settling against his core. That would be a name to remember, at least for a few decades. "Sally Jackson," he purred as he reached out and took her hands. His hands closed over hers, firmly holding onto them even as she tried to pull away. "You want to know what I am? Don't talk," he warned when he saw that she was about to. He tried smiling at her again, she frowned in return. _Damn woman, would it kill you to smile at me? _ _Would Atlas put down the world if you did? Would Gaea wake? Would you shatter into thousands of pieces? _He thought darkly.

"Sally, I am…" he took a deep breath, pausing for impact. Mortals reacted different to the knowledge that he was a God. "I am the true Poseidon, I am the Greek God."

"You're…" she shook her head. She pressed her lips together and then snorted, loud. "Really? You have that much arrogance that you… did you think that that pick up line would work? Hey Baby, I'm a Greek God, just look at my hot body?"

"…It's worked before," Poseidon said, miffed at the woman. "You're supposed to be impressed."

She pulled her hands back, laughter breaking from her chest; she didn't bother trying to stop herself. "I don't know what world you grew up in or what sort of women you're used to being with but I don't swoon. If you were really a God, wouldn't you have come to see me as a swan? Some sort of animal? That was in the Greek God repertoire wasn't it?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, "the Greeks enjoyed the taboo. Bestiality was played out a lot. We really didn't take animal forms that often for copulation. We preferred our correct sex and forms."

Sally stepped back from him. "You're serious," she rubbed her eyes; there was an aura around him that had been bothering her. She blinked and the aura was gone, in its place was the man. She walked around him carefully. He had the perfect body. He was the Greek ideal. There were no scars, no blemishes on his flesh. She remembered how his hands had felt. They were firm, rough but not calloused. His eyes changed colors constantly, mimicking the ocean water. She recalled the trident; he had never said that he didn't carry a trident. _He said that it wasn't a pitchfork. _He wasn't there when they had arrived; he was there only when she walked up the beach. She couldn't wrap her mind around it. "Come back tomorrow," she said finally. Her mind was on overload. "Come back tomorrow and we'll talk."

He nodded once. He knew that some mortals were unable to comprehend the Gods. It was happening more and more as technology replaced religion. Science replaced faith. "Tomorrow then, Sally," he promised her and once an oath was made, it could not be broken. Even Gods had to be careful with their words. "Sleep well, dream of me."

She waved him off and escaped back into the house, the door closing behind her.

Poseidon leaned in, using a bit of his God powers to listen in. He heard nothing. He concentrated harder, and heard what sounded to be static, as if something was interfering with his powers. He pulled back. He didn't like not knowing the answers.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and transported himself the five hundred feet up the beach and to the house that he had 'built' for himself. If he was to be in human guise for the year, and spend the summer in Maine then he would do it in his own style. He lay on a plush navy blue leather couch, an arm over his head. The decorations melded from the walls, all aquatic and navy oriented. The sound of the ocean was amplified. The perfect noise that he could close his eyes and concentrate on.

_Tomorrow, Sally Jackson, you and I will have our talk. _

He sighed, only 364 days left to the bet and he felt good. Even if the wench did smack him, her father called him cursed, her mother shocked him, and the girl made fun of him. It had been the most fun he had had since he had Medusa in Athena's temple.


	4. Focus on Her

**A.N. Remember, I own nothing. Also, thanks to those who have favorited this story/subscribed, I appreciate it. Now, remember, reviews are awesome as well. Tell me what you think, it helps me write. **

Chapter 4  
Explanations and Pretend 

He watched from the beach as Helios drove his chariot across the sky. The arc of light rose slowly, taunting him with the new day. He had received a promise from Sally that she would speak to him, and he would hold her to that promise. The ocean lapped against his feet, the playful urgings of the Nereids as they whispered in his mind. He brushed them, his movements quick and irritated. He sighed and watched as the sun slowly rose. The titan was being difficult. "Hurry up."

"Who are you talking to?"

Poseidon smirked as Sally's voice fell over him. He twisted to look up at her, his hand moving up to block out the sun. His breath caught in his throat as the sun shone around her. The blazing red of her hair blended into the vibrant red of the sun. He coughed and looked away from her. _Sometimes, Gods forget how vibrant mortals can be. _

"I was talking to Helios. I wanted him to ride quicker across the sky so that I could see if you would keep your promise, Miss Sally Jackson."

She scoffed and sat next to Poseidon. "I may not be a God and obligated to keep my word but I am my father's daughter and he raised me well. I keep my word as best as I am able." She dug her feet into the sand and wiggled her toes; pushing her feet up towards the surface and saw as they poked out. She cast a sideways look at the man that was dominating her attention, "What did you want to talk about?"

Her cute toes grabbed his attention. It was an innocent gesture that no God would ever be able to do without looking to mimic the humans. "Everything," he said as the water pushed up and brushed against him. From the corner of his eye he saw Sally put her feet in the water and he shivered. There was something nearly intimate in that gesture. He was the God of the Sea and she easily moved into it. "Tell me about yourself. Tell me about your dreams, your desires. Tell me whatever enters your mind."

"No," she said. "I won't. If you want to learn about me then you will have to be quiet and watch instead of having me tell you."

_You just can't tell me. _He thought. He shook his head and then quieted. "What if I just wanted to talk with you? You judge me, your shields up since the moment that you've met me. Can't you lower them for me, just long enough for me to talk with you. Forget that I'm a God, pretend that I'm just a man," he whispered as he reached out to brush a hand over her cheek.

Sally jerked back and grabbed his hand. "You think that I'm on the defense because you're a god? Stop flattering yourself," she growled as she pushed herself to her feet, moving away from him. "Men! Be it Gods or human, you all think the same. A few choice words here, a few small touches there and you all think that a girl is just going to fall into your lap," she clasped her hands against her chest. "Oh please Mr. God, won't you ravish me in the sea-foam."

Poseidon growled as she moved away but launched to his feet when she openly mocked him. He grabbed onto her arm lightly, enough to stop her, "stop," he ordered. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back. "Damn woman, I can't even be kind to you can I?" he said rhetorically. He caught the dangerous look in her eyes and he shook his head. "That's not what I meant. I meant, I am trying to compliment you the best I know how. Yes, women tend to fall before me. They can't help it. I am one of the top three Gods. What I want, I get. Always. I have not had a woman fight against the temptation that I brought before. I have had women run from me but it was just for the chase. You aren't running asking to be caught; you are sauntering daring me to try and get you."

"I'm not trying to get you at all! You need to stop thinking that I am! I'm just here, on vacation. I'm not sauntering, I'm not doing anything but trying to do anything but get through this summer and you're already making it worse." She pulled away from him and stormed away. She heard him trying to follow her and she walked faster, her feet sinking into the sand. "Knock it off, Poseidon," she yelled over her shoulder. The sand instantly firmed underneath her feet, allowing her to escape back into the house.

He followed after her, the ocean darkening and the waves pounded on the sand. She stormed away from him. The irony was not lost on him. She was a harpy in the way that she reacted so violently against him, but he leaned back on his forearms and got a delicious view of her backside, the denim covered in sand. _She is more like a siren in that way. _He fell back completely onto the sand, his head cradled in his arms as he looked skyward. _There has to be a way to win her. Every woman can be won; then again, every woman can be lost as well. _His mind flitted back to Paris and the woman that he loved. He had kidnapped her, loved her with an intensity that spawned the greatest war but in the end love was not enough and she was brought back to her husband and Troy fell. He did not wish the same to happen to himself. Though he had few cities that still bore his namesake, there were things that he could lose. His pride, if lost, would strip away his godhood and only his brother would be able to restore it. He shuddered, prostrating himself in front of his brother was not high on his list of things that he wished to do anytime soon.

Still, the thought of winning the woman and thus the bet was too big of a temptation for him. He could win everything or lose it all. He was beginning to understand how his brother had viewed him when the deal was struck. The Gods had not been able to pit one against the other in eons. It was a sport that most missed nearly as much as being able to directly meddle with the lives of mortals. Sure, they could flick a finger and something would go wrong but humans were getting to be so damn tenacious that they could fix nearly anything. He was struck with an image of Sally's mother, the plain woman with the quiet voice and determined eyes. She would never have caught his attention but the way that her hand had rested on his arm, the aura of power that she gave off, just for a moment was enough to get his attention. Yet, her body was dying. She was dying and there was very little that a human medicine could do to stop it.

He harbored the thought of intervening. He would step in, save the mother and Sally would fall at his feet in thanks. He smirked, preparing himself to formulate the correct plea to Apollo when something mentally blocked him. A sudden black wall rose up. _What is this? _He pushed against it with his mind, determined to shatter it. He had never seen the kind before. He abandoned the effort when his head started to ache. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold drachma and flipped it around his fingers as he waited for the water to push up an inevitable rainbow. "Iris, you'd best deliver my message to Apollo." He ordered as a faint rainbow emerged. It would have to do. He flicked the coin into the water and waited. The coin fell out from the other side and deep into the waves and then returned to Poseidon's hand.

He ran the coin over his jaw, the water leaving a trail over his stubble covered cheek before it dried. "Hn," he groused as the coin returned to his pouch. _All right, Brother, you wanted me to win over this prickly beast of a woman but you're taking away a means for me to do it. Isn't that interference? That's grounds for me winning the deal. _

_ I have done no such thing. _Zeus' voice broke into his mind, laced with confusion. The omniscient god was rarely left in the dark about something. _If there was a way for you to win the woman, regardless of the way, that falls into the bet. I am bound by my word to allow you to do it. What did you try to do? _

A shiver ran up the God's spine. If Zeus hadn't interfered, and the other gods were honor bound to pick sides in the bet, those siding with Zeus couldn't interfere, that meant that either a God was breaking the rule or something else was interfering with him. "I don't like this," he stated out loud, ignoring his brother.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to slip within. Gods were finicky beings. They couldn't stand staying in one area. Instead, their focus extended and they were in many places at once. He settled and allowed himself to go someplace better, where the weather was warmer, the women more receptive to him. Time was relative to him, he sat as the water ebbed and flowed, as the moon rose and set. He sat as hours turned into days and the days stretched onward.

Sand was dumped on his head.

That was enough to jerk him back to awareness of the place where one of his forms were. The other parts of him shuddered and started to retract. The place was demanding more of his focus than it should. He shook his head, the sand falling painlessly into his eyes before he looked upward.

She stood over him with an empty bucket and a displeased expression marring her freckled face. Her eyes flashed as she leaned down by him and started to scoop more sand into the bucket. "You've been sitting here for days. Not moving. My mother is getting upset and yes, she is starting to notice. If you wanted to do something against me, that's fine but don't you dare start worrying my mother or I will hurt you, God or not," she said before she picked up the bucket and prepared to dump it back over his head. "Three weeks you have been sitting here, three weeks. Enough. What do you want from me? Really?"

He reached up and grabbed the bucket from her, easily pulling it from her hands. He was not in the mood for the barbaric Amazon-reborn woman that was in front of him. He thought back to the twins that he had been in bed with in Cancun, the wife of a corporate lawyer and her sister in Flagstaff, the double-mint twins in New York City. She had torn him away from six women by pouring a bucket of sand over his head. He had tried flirting with her, he had tried wooing her, he had tried demanding her presence and none of it was working.

He had one last card; he was going to be honest with her. "I made a bet with my brother, Zeus, that I could have any woman in the world. He slept with my wife, it was a good bet," he said, waiting for the rage to cross her face, the inevitable cussing and violence that would burst from her Irish heritage.

She sat down next to her, her brows furrowed, her sun burnt face pensive. "What do you get out of the deal?"

He wasn't expecting that. That woman was full of surprises; it kept him on his toes. More and more of his focus landed on her, away from the others. "Are you going to stop pouring sand over my head?"

She smirked, "Are you going to answer my question?"

Poseidon shrugged, "My wife, Amphitrite, Zeus decided that I was becoming too attached and wanted to prove a point."

"You're brother is a royal ass isn't he?" She asked, not understanding the Greek gods at all. She knew the myths and the lore but she couldn't understand anything else. "Anyway, so if you win this bet that you get your wife back and you save face huh?"

"Nail on the head," he said, looking at her. He smiled slightly, "do you want to help me win this bet?"

"What's in it for me?"

"You?" he was confused, "why should you get anything?"

Her eyes flashed.

"All right, I was joking," he said as he gave it some thought. "I can't heal your mother," he forewarned her. "It's not possible for me."

Sally's face darkened and she looked away from him. "I thought that gods could do anything."

"No, we used to back when we were the gods of the top Tier but that's not something that we don't have to talk about. I can…" he sent out a brief thought, finding no interference and he breathed a sigh of relief. "I can make it so she's not in as much pain. I can make it so she has more good days than bad. I can make it so she has the best summer that she can but," he leveled a strict glare at her, "the way you treat your parents is appalling. My family may not be the best example and don't get mad, but I could make her days better, but you would only make them worse if you keep lashing out like you are. Calm down, paint a smile on that bitter face of yours and if you have to vent your rage, vent it on me. That way, for her sake, you are happy."

Sally blinked, "I was just told off by a Greek god," she mused. She shook her head. "I will try. If you help her, I will pretend to be swayed by your charms."

Poseidon reached forward and grasped her chin lightly in his hand. He looked at her searchingly. The eyes were the windows to the soul but her eyes were dark, blocking him from any insight. He leaned in, his lips lightly brushing against hers and the sweet, virginal scent grasped him. _So, that's why she's defensive. She doesn't know what she's doing. _

The shock of his lips against her's quieted her for a moment. Her eyes widened, she froze and then she shoved him back. "All right, that's the first thing for your brother."

Poseidon laughed and pressed a finger against her lips. "Shush, if this is to work, you have to pretend that you like it and that you aren't doing it for my brother's benefit."

Her lips pursed and then a grin crossed over her face. "So, we're pretend dating?" she asked, he nodded and she laughed. "You have to come to dinner at my house then. You have to tell my parents that we're dating and you have to pretend to be human while in public. Those are my terms for this to work."

"Dinner…" He had heard of modern parents. It would be easier if they believed in him as a God. He saw the look on her face, the determined look. "Fine, dinner."

"Good," she said as she stood up and took his hand. "Come on then, might as well come over now."

He stood up, his hand dwarfing hers. "You're parents are going to eat me alive."

She laughed and brought him up the porch, "you're a god, you'll just regenerate," she teased.

_Brother, you're going to dinner with the mortal woman? Shouldn't you be in her bed right now? _

Poseidon sighed, surprised as he realized that he felt nervous about being back in the same house with her parents. _Shut up, this is modern times, not like it was back home. I have to woo her parents as much as I woo her. _

Zeus laughed and the thunder rumbled in the sky. _Good luck Brother, I have a feeling that you'll need it. _

**A.N. And so ends this chapter. I hope it pleases everyone. Next time there is the dinner date with the family, which could end up chaotic, we'll have to see. Review if you'd like. **


	5. Fate and War

**A.N. Wow, thanks for all those that added the story to their favorites list or added me to their author list. That was unexpected. I'm glad that there are people who are enjoying the story. I'm sorry about the irregular updates. Normally, I try to have a chapter posted on Wednesday and then again on Saturday and I work on the chapters on the days prior and after the publication date. This week left me scrambling for time as I try to figure out my Major and how I can graduate from the university on time. I promise, more regular updates, and I will try to get at least another chapter posted before the weekend is over, to make it for making everyone wait. **

Chapter 5  
War and Fate

Zeus' voice faded leaving Poseidon irritated. The bet would go easier if he didn't have his brother constantly chiming in with something that he thought would catch him off guard. He rubbed the side of his head; Zeus' overpowering voice left him with a headache. "What are your parents making for dinner?" He asked as the ache faded but a ringing replaced it.

Sally pushed open the door, unaware of the chaos in Poseidon's head. "Fish."

"You're joking," he said, his voice falling flat, "I will be a good guest but I do not care to eat fish."

She gave his arm a squeeze as they stepped into the house, "I was joking," she said. She used him for balance as she kicked off her shoes. She looked down, seeing his bare feet. "How did you get the sand to stay off of you?" she asked. She was covered in sand.

"Allow me," he said as he ran his hands down her body allowing the sand to fall away from her. He ran his hands up her body slowly in the guise of trying to get whatever sand remained. His hands rested on her hips. "Hm, you're softer than I thought."

Sally arched a brow, "I am a woman."

"A young one," he retorted with a smirk, "I like my women young, gives them a sort of innocence," he whispered as he leaned down.

"Sally, you brought back the surfer?" her mother's voice washed over them. She stepped into the foyer. She saw her daughter with the surfer, Poseidon, his hands resting on her hips. He was leaning too close. Her brow arched, a small smile hinted at the corner of her lips. "Is he staying for dinner?"

The young woman blushed and she pulled away from Poseidon, he let her go. "It's not what it looks like," she tried to say. Poseidon snorted and looked away from her, she elbowed him hard in the side.

Margaret nodded, her eyes knowing. "Of course, well…Poseidon was it? You are more than welcome to stay for dinner. I hope that steak pleases you."

Poseidon nodded, _are all mothers able to see so clearly through their children? This woman has a gaze that would make the Sister-Fates step back. _"I enjoy steak," he said as he stepped forward, he had a bottle of rich red wine materialize in the hand behind his back and he held it out for her. "It is to compliment the dinner, or for you and your husband to share in private later tonight."

"I don't recall you having a bottle of wine before," Margaret said as she took the bottle. She looked over the vintage and name, she smiled slightly, "thank you Poseidon, I appreciate the gesture. Most kids your age forget their manners," she looked at Sally reproachfully causing her daughter to shift and look away. "Sally, would you bring your date into the back deck? You're father is still trying to figure out the grill. I will bring in refreshments."

Sally started to complain but quieted. She had made a deal with Poseidon and she would keep it. "All right Mom," she said, gesturing to Poseidon to follow her.

"Actually, Ma'am, if you wouldn't mind the help, I can go help Sally's father with the grill and Sally can help you," Poseidon interjected smoothly.

Margaret stopped and waited for Sally to turn down the man's offer.

Sally looked up at Poseidon.

The god tried his best to look innocent.

Sally left the room and walked with her mother into the kitchen. Poseidon grinned, the woman may fight him on many things but she wouldn't fight him when it came to her mother. She held to her word, as promised. The god walked through the small sea-cottage; he stopped when he saw the door to Sally's room open. Curiosity overcame him. He stepped into the doorway of her room and looked around. Her clothes were scattered around the room. Shirts were thrown on the bed, jeans were discarded over a chair, and her dresser drawers were pulled out halfway. Silver bracelets were thrown on the top of her desk, her mirror had a blue decorative scarf covering it, and the wall held posters of B-roll celebrities and underground bands he never cared to take notice of. He smirked at one poster holding the young sad face of Tristan McLean. The man wasn't popular yet but he had a feeling that eventually, someone would take notice.

The door was finally slammed in his face. He blinked in shock and looked down to see Sally glaring up at him, "you're supposed to be helping my dad light the grill."

He held his hands up, palms out, "sorry, I got distracted," he grinned and walked to the back porch. He saw Sally's father fighting with a bag of charcoal. He walked over and hefted the bag up and poured a liberal amount into the grill.

"Thank you," the elder man grunted as he mopped his forehead with a tattered cloth and stuck it in his back pocket.

"I'll finish," Poseidon said as he moved forward, finishing starting the grill. He stepped back and surveyed his work, pleased that he could get it to start without use of his god-powers. There was something to be said for an honest moment of work, even if he never did it again.

Randolph rested back against the railing, reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it, inhaled sharply and held his breath. Tendrils of smoke escaped from his nose before he breathed out in a rush. "You and my daughter are getting along now?" he asked.

Poseidon nodded, waiting for the grill to heat up, "it's hard getting past her defenses isn't it?" he asked, another swell of pride that he had gotten Sally to agree to be his date.

"Aye, she's like her mother," Randolph said with a smirk, "I chased that woman from one side of the country to the other. She didn't want to be tied down; I just wanted her to be mine. Finally, five years later, she consented to be my wife. That was twenty years ago," he said with a faint smile.

Poseidon's mind quickly went through the calculations as he turned to lay the steak on. He had been with his wife but they had long since separated. She lived in his castle under the sea but he was rarely there. By his standards, Randolph and Margaret had been together for a long time. He saw the way that the man looked at his wife, the way that his wife stood up to him boldly, how the man answered with amusement and passion. _When was the last time I felt that way towards Amphitrite? Was there a time? I chased her like Randolph chased Margaret but I wanted her because she was beautiful, not because she made me feel something else. Can Gods even feel that depth of emotion? _

He frowned, he didn't like thinking that the mortals could do something that he couldn't. He made it a note that when he found someone truly worthy of his attention, he would love her with the same intensity that Randolph loved his wife.

"So, what about you and my daughter?"

Poseidon moved from his thoughts and paid attention to the man, "ah, your daughter? I think, at this moment we're nothing more than friends, Sir. It's a long summer and there isn't anyone else on the beach that we can be with. I think that we both decided that we would make the best of it and try to get along," he paused, his face and voice flat, "she dumped sand on my head."

Randolph roared with laughter as he clapped the man on the back, "and that is my girl, takes after her mam," he said as the two women walked out with the salads and lemonade. Randolph moved up to his wife and swept her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her cheek and another one to her lips. He gave a sultry purr, his arms wrapped gently around her waist as he held her to him. "My minx."

The Sea-God looked away, that level of intimacy confounded him. Sally moved up beside him and lifted the top of the grill, poking at the steaks with a fork. "Are they always this way, your parents?" he whispered in her ear.

Sally smirked slightly and shook her head, "they used to fight a lot. Don't let my father fool you. He and my mother always loved one another but they used to fight about money, about my school, about my friends and lack thereof. They would argue about the food that we couldn't afford the clothes that I was growing out of, pretty much everything that they could argue about, they did."

"That sounds different that what he told me. He makes it sound like they never had a problem during the time that they've been together," he muttered before he shook his head and looked over the pair that was setting the table together.

"I know. But after mom got sick, everything changed. They couldn't argue about things anymore, it would only make her tired," she explained as she flipped the steaks and let them sizzle, just for a moment before she pulled them off. She yelped when she turned and Poseidon was holding a plate for her. "Ah… thank you," she said as she put them on.

They sat at the table, Poseidon had to remember not to take offense when Margaret was put at Randolph's right hand, he was put on the man's left and Sally was seated next to him. He waited for some sign that they were praying, instead there was an extra seat at the end of the table, with a plate set in front of it. Confused, he looked towards Sally who seemed to be used to it. She passed him the salad. He piled his plate with it, speared a steak and settled in. There was no conversation but it felt comfortable, without the tension that might have been. "Sir?" He broke through the quiet atmosphere.

Randolph looked up from his plate, his knife and fork poised over the steak as he arched a brow. Clearly, conversation at the dinner was not the accepted norm.

"I was wondering if I could take Sally out tonight. There is a fair on the outskirts of the city. I thought that she might enjoy it."

She sighed as she finished her salad. "Yeah, can I go Dad?" she asked him, but prepared herself for the inevitable no.

Randolph was prepared to say no but his wife put her hand to his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze, he looked at her and then sighed in the same way that his daughter had done, "Don't stay out too late," was all he said.

Sally blinked; her father never let her go out at night. It was the paranoia that came with living in the area that they did. "I won't, I'll be back by eleven," she promised as she stood up and kissed his cheek, "thank you."

Poseidon smirked before he looked out of the corner of his eye. He twisted around quickly. There was a woman sitting at the end of the table eating a piece of steak. Her thick black hair was twined up in a bun against the back of her head. Her face was pale but scarred; her eyes were fathomless, deep and cold. A raven sat on her shoulder; she wore the feathers ravens over the regal purple gown that she wore. He pushed himself away from the table quickly, the chair toppling over.

Time froze around him. Sally and her family stayed seated. He shook his head. He backed away from the woman who dabbed at the corners of her mouth.  
"You are a very rude God aren't you?" She asked as she folded her napkin and laid it down on the table. She stood up, moved around her chair and walked up to the Greek God.  
He tried to figure out who she was. He ran through every demi-god, God, Immortal and magical creature that he could think of. There were no Greeks or Roman gods that he knew off that did as that woman did. "Who are you?" He asked begrudgingly.

"I protect this family. You could call them my children, though my kind does not have demi-god children as often as you Greeks seemed to." She said, her voice was like the horror of death, the rasp of the dying combined with a mother's gentle voice.

"What is your name?" he asked. Greek and Roman did not get along well with gods from other areas. There were a clash of ideals, a clash of culture and personality. They chose different sections of where to live. The Greeks chose Manhattan, The Egyptians chose Brooklyn, Norse Gods decided to go Washington, The Judo-Christian and Islamic Gods were still arguing over who should make base where. He kept going through all the Gods that he could think of and how the woman was dressed it made it clear that she was one of the pagan gods. One of the ones that was as older than he. "You're one of the Celtic Gods. We haven't heard from you for years."

She smiled slightly; the raven on her shoulder screamed and flapped its wings. "We are better than you at keeping our prophecies to home. Now, it seems like you have been named in one of the prophecies that name the family that has named me as their Patron. I would like you to leave here before you start something that will involve all of us."

"You still haven't told me your name," he said drolly not one to answer what she put to him without information in return.

"Names are important things. True names are rarely given. You can call me Macha; it is the same names that the humans call me. I have never given my secret name out to anyone, the same as you." She said as she gave the raven a piece of bread. The bird devoured it and stared darkly at Poseidon.

Poseidon crossed his arms over his chest. He had heard of Macha though he could not understand how the family with the last name of Jackson could have Macha as their patron god. "The Goddess of Life and Death, you protect your chosen families in time of peace and war. Now, tell me… are you protecting them now in peace or war."

Macha smiled, she held some respect for the Greek gods, not much, but some. "Now, we are in the time of peace, but soon Poseidon, son of the Greek Titan, we will be in the time of war," she had no problem with war. War was a natural course that humans took. "This war will be a different war, stretched across years. It will involve all Gods, in a way. All of our prophecies will start to come true. The Egyptians are already readying themselves for what they must do. We are trying to prevent it. Poseidon, call off the bet that you made with your brother. The consequences of your actions will reach farther than you can understand."

"And if I don't?" he asked, looking at the family as they were assembled. "What if I want to keep going with this bet? I have heard nothing from the Sister-Fates; wouldn't they have warned me if I was doing something was going to happen?"

She shrugged. "Not if the Sister-Fates were working for your brother at this time. If your brother has ulterior motives for your bet…"

"My brother always has ulterior motives," he shot back, "tell me something I don't know."

She looked affronted and she pulled the cloak tighter around her body, "I should have known better than to visit you to try and warn you," she said angrily as she left. The rattle of death stayed suspended in the air as time became unfrozen.

Poseidon was left standing awkwardly as the family turned and stared at him as if he had grown two heads. He cleared his throat and picked up the chair, pushing it back to the table. Margaret caught his eye and nodded knowingly. It left him even more confused and bewildered.

"What is your problem?" Sally hissed, she couldn't figure out why Poseidon had that look on his face.

"Nothing… nothing," he said as he put his hands to his temples. "I seem to have a headache," he excused himself from the table.

Sally stood up and caught his arm before the god collapsed against her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, tottering against the sudden weight. "Father!" she cried out as the god lost consciousness.

The pain nearly split his head in two. The throbbing against his head brought images.

He saw a child.

He felt pain.

He saw Sally trying to save him.

The last wave of emotion sent him reeling into the depths of unconsciousness. He felt a deep overwhelming sense of lose.

**A.N. So there you have it, the end of chapter five. Let me know what you think. **


	6. Gods, Goddesses and Pomegranate Seeds

**A.N. I don't own anything of the Percy Jackson series. Poseidon probably owns himself.  
WarriorOfPoseidon, liliesandroses, and madilover thanks for the reviews. For those that added me to your story/author watch, thanks to you as well. **

Chapter 6  
Gods, Goddesses and Pomegranate seeds 

Randolph hurried to his daughter's side. He knelt down beside her as she toppled under the man's weight. "Dad, what's wrong with him?" She asked as his head was pillowed in her lap, "he was all right a minute ago and then he just… freaked out."  
The older man rested a hand on Poseidon's forehead and frowned, "I don't think he hit his head. We'll move him into the living room. Margaret, go inside and make tea, you know the kind," he ordered as he wrapped an arm around Poseidon's shoulders and pushed him up. With a grunt, he picked the God up, and slung him over his shoulder. It was undignified but the God would have to deal with it.  
Poseidon woke up to something warm on his forehead, the sweet smell of lavender and the sound of irate tapping. He opened his eyes blearily and looked to the side. He half expected to see one of his sisters standing over, laughing at him. Instead, there was his red-haired Amazon, God-protected woman with a scowl on her face and a book resting on her lap. "Ah, I can't be dead or you'd be smiling," he said as he pushed himself onto his elbows. His head felt light, his body too heavy.

"You fainted," Sally said as she fully closed the book. She hadn't been reading, instead she aimlessly stared at the pages until the words blurred together, "what kind of God faints?"

"Not me," he answered as he lain back against the couch, "I had a sudden splitting headache," he explained.

She smirked, "you aren't going to birth a God are you? That'd be hard explaining to my parents," she shifted in her seat, looking to the left of Poseidon where no one stood, "hey mom, I swear, this fully fledged person was here and no, he's Poseidon's son. What's his name? Oh, it's Perseus. Yeah, he has issues naming things. I just call him Percy."

"Percy? You would take a great name like Perseus and shorten it to…Percy?" The god asked in disbelief, "Woman, Perseus was one of the greatest heroes of my time. You would not demean his memory."

She snorted, "You would make someone be called Perseus? It's nearly as bad as Hercules. It'd be Percy and Herc. Percy sounds better… but, what really happened? You looked like you had seen a ghost when you fainted from your…headache."

"I had been talking to a Goddess. Did you know that you had a Patron? How did the Jacksons get a patron god?" he asked the questions in rapid succession.

She crossed her arms over her chest, goose bumps rising over her arms, "my parents changed their last name when they moved here. They heard about the racial stereotypes that come with being obviously un-American. My father worked on his accent and as quickly as he could, he assimilated. My mother did the same but you can still hear Ireland in her voice if she speaks louder."

Poseidon leaned forward, "tell me what your father's last name used to be," he whispered to her. The Goddess Macha did not visit any family.

"It's not the surname that you are looking for," Margaret said from the doorway as she walked in. She rested her hand on the God's brow and sat down in a chair that Sally pulled forward for her.

The woman, Poseidon noted, was unlike any that he had ever witnessed. Helen of Troy though more beautiful did not have the poise that the woman had, the strength in her tired eyes or the pride in her spine. He looked at Sally and saw the same. Like mother like daughter. "What am I looking for?" He asked.

Margaret reached and took Sally's hand, "would you excuse us please? I think that I should have a frank talk with your boyfriend about our family's lineage and you were never fond of the old stories."

Sally didn't want to leave, she held onto her mother's cold hand but saw the resolve. Whatever her mother wanted to tell Poseidon it didn't concern her. "All right," she murred as she stood up and walked to the kitchen where she paused in the doorway, her hand held onto the rough wood, her teeth worrying her lower lip, "you will call me back when you're done talking?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Of course, dear," her mother promised fondly, "now, shoo. You have dishes to finish," Margaret waited until her daughter had left the room and she turned to look down at Poseidon.

"You have the gift…" Poseidon managed to say, he knew that Sally had it, for the girl had looked through the mist and seen his true self. He knew that it was passed down through the mothers, as most gifts were. "Did you see Macha?" he asked; his voice deepening as the waves crashed hard on the surf outside. He did not like being usurped by a goddess of barbaric origins.

"I have seen her," Margaret affirmed as she fussed at the blanket that was covering the seemingly young man that was lying on the couch. "I know that you are Poseidon but I cannot see your god-form. I know that you must be as your name says because only a god would walk into a stranger's house and not bother to change his name. I know that my daughter can see your true self, and that she has my gift, stronger than I ever had it."

The run around that he was getting did not amuse him. Like mother, like daughter, neither was seemingly affected by his bolster. "Your last name woman, what was it?"

Margaret shook her head again, "Didn't you used to tell your Heroes that they had to ask the right questions to get the answer that they want? You keep asking me for my last name. It was Jackson. What was it before then? It was Macdonough; Randolph's last name was Baines. He took my last name when we married and when we moved to America, he was uncomfortable with the stereotyping and we changed it to Jackson. Even if you search your mind, Poseidon, you won't find any inkling of why the name Macdonough would interest you."

"You can't tell me anything?" He asked, he felt like he was wandering through the dark, his arms stretched blindly in front of him, and at any moment he would run into something hard, an obstacle that he couldn't get over or go around. "Have your family always lived in Ireland?"

She shook her head, a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"Did your ancestors come from Ireland?"

She shook her head again.

"Are they from Briton?"

She nodded, once. There was something dark in the woman's eyes.

"You don't like me," he decided finally, "something happened that made the hate fill your eyes, but you don't hate me. You hate…" He looked over her shoulder and saw Macha standing there again, her hands resting on the woman's shoulders. Margaret seemed to not feel the presence of the patron goddess. He swallowed, "you hate the Roman aspect of me."

Macha nodded once. There was no love lost between the Roman gods and the Celtic gods. They had been at war as much as the Celts and the Romans had been.

He closed his eyes and allowed his focus to drift. Time was relative to him, there was nothing more gratifying than escape the circumstance except then, he had little control over where his mind was going. He thought back, far back. _She said that she was from Briton; her family had come from there. _

He stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He knew that he was crossing enemy lines. If any Celtic god saw him, they had the right to kill him. It was the same if a Celtic god stepped foot in Manhattan or Greece. Past or present, the Gods would never get along. He saw Macha standing with him, the crow fluttered from her shoulder to his, masking him from the Celts. He saw a woman, her face hard with a lifetime of hard work. Her long red hair fell in waves down her back; her body was clad in a brown, grey and black tartan. Her eyes pierced into him like a hawk would spear a mouse. He looked harder, his eyes widening in shock. She looked identical to Sally Jackson. Instantly, he knew her name.

Poseidon was pulled back and he shook his head, "Boudicca, if you trace your lineage through the females, as warriors of your kind do… your past-mother was Boudicca."

Margaret nodded, Macha mirrored the move. "Boudicca made even the Romans run when she rose against them."

"She died," he pointed out rationally. The warrior woman had been taken down but not before she had inflicted her own casualties.

"She fought back. Her daughters were raped in front of her, she was raped and bore a son," Macha whispered.

"She killed that son," Poseidon said as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "Mars was not happy that one of his children was killed. He wanted strong offspring between the Romans and the Celts," he paused, "you were from the smallest child, the daughter that wasn't taken as a spoil of war."

Margaret nodded, "and now you see what happens when you ask the right questions."

"Sally looks just like Boudicca," he mused, running a hand over his jaw, "she acts like her too."

"You bring danger to my daughter," Margaret said, "I mean no offense to you, Greek god Poseidon but there are stories of the Roman gods that are passed from mother to daughter, and have been since Boudicca. We learned not to trust you."

Poseidon stiffened, "and if I give you my word?" he asked lowly, it was dangerous to insult him after he offered his word.

"I wouldn't trust you farther than I could throw you, your word given or not."

"I trust him," Sally interjected, standing in the doorway. She held a bowl of pomegranate seeds and was idly popping them into her mouth. She dared her mother to say anything, "you invited him into the house as a guest and now you're insulting him. You would yell at me for that," she said wisely. She walked into the room and set the bowl on Poseidon's lap, "I figured you might like some."

The symbolism wasn't lost on him. He picked up one of the seeds and popped it into his mouth, savoring the sweet taste, though the next one he bit into was sour and he spat it out into his hand, "I should leave," he said as he stood up and handed the bowl back to the girl, "if you still want to go to the fair with me, we can go tomorrow," he offered.

She stood up, shooting her mother a look, Macha couldn't be seen, "I'll walk you home."

Margaret made a note of protest and Poseidon had to resist the urge to gloat over the woman but he had given his word to Sally that he would make Margaret's passing painless and while the woman didn't like him on principle, he would keep his word to prove a point.

He held out his arm to her, "I would welcome your company and," he picked up the bowl, "I am taking these with me."

Sally laughed as she walked to the front door and pulled on her shoes. "I own you now, for two years," she teased him.

Poseidon grinned, his white teeth flashing against his tan and bearded face. He held the door open for her, following her down the stairs and back onto the cooling sand. The sun had started to set, making her already vibrant red hair seem to be aglow. "Persephone only has to stay with Hades for six months," he said to her as he ate another one, sweet, he swallowed.

"I'm more stubborn than that. You ate two; I get you for two years."

He laughed, the woman was determined and he was becoming enthralled by her spirit and attitude. "I ate one and a half, I spat the other back out into my hand, it was sour," he said as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against his strong form. One of her hands splayed against his chest, bracing her, the other rested against his shoulder. "You get me for a year and a half by those standards," he teased as he leaned down and gently kissed her forehead.

Sally was prepared for the kiss; she had tilted her head back expecting something more. The kiss on her forehead made her eyes light with fury and she pushed the God back. "Oh…you jackass," she cursed him as she walked further up the beach, leaving him behind.

Poseidon laughed deeper, he had to keep her on her toes else they would both become bored. He had a feeling that the young woman would keep him forever entertained if they were allowed to be together for that long. He watched as she walked away from him and in his mind's eye, he saw her aging. He saw the grey streaking through her hair, her strong body becoming bent with age and hardship. He saw her dying, surrounded by family while he stood invisible to them all. Mortals lived such few lives; if he blinked she would be gone.

He refused to blink.

"Sally!" he called out her name and ran up to catch her right as she stepped up onto the porch of his house, "stop," he ordered as he trailed a hand through her hair, "don't… hit me again," he whispered as he bent down and claimed her lips.

She had never been kissed before. She had imagined it, practiced on her pillow, wrote about it in her journal and then gradually, as she became the tall, poor freak of her private school, she had given up all hope of ever being kissed but there she was, kissing a Greek god. Her heart pounded in her chest as she awkwardly tried to match his immense skill. She pulled away finally and settled back down from her tiptoes, her face was flushed nearly matching the color of her hair.

"Eighteen months then," she whispered.

"What?" he asked confused, before he remembered. The pomegranate seeds, he smiled faintly, "you ask much from a god."

"You ask much from a mortal," she replied.

"Do you love me?" he asked, feeling that the bet could be win, just a few weeks after Zeus had issued it.

She laughed at him, the mirth echoing around him. He should have known that the woman wouldn't have fallen in love with him so easily. She did have Boudicca's blood flowing within her veins after all, "no, Poseidon, I don't love you," she said as she hopped down from the porch and raced off down the sand. "I just enjoy kissing you," she yelled over her shoulder before she escaped back to her family's makeshift home.

He touched his fingers to his lips. She was naïve, inexperienced but full of life, charm, wit and determination. "I enjoy kissing you as well, Sally," he said as he let himself into his house. He closed the door and sighed. There was something nagging at the back of his head, something that he figured he should remember.

"Did you forget the deal that was made?"

_Ah, that was it…_

**A.N. So, next time there will be an introduction of a certain god. Cookies to who guesses correctly. Metaphorical e-cookies. Slowly Poseidon and Sally are growing closer, though there are certain people on many sides that want nothing more than to drive them apart. Reviews are appreciated, as always. **


	7. Choices

**A.N. I'm sorry for not updating sooner, it's nearly finals week at my university and I have been bogged down writing papers. I would like to thank all of my new subscribers and Reviewers; I appreciate all of your input. That being said, this is a fictional story and any religious connotations are fictionalized. While I do not plan on bringing in the Judo-Christian god or the Islamic god (put those three together as Judo-Christian and Islamic **_**gods **_**)**__**I am not going to omit any future reference I make to them. I am not bashing any organized or pagan religion; this is purely for reading enjoyment. I do not own anything of the Percy Jackson series and again, Poseidon pretty much owns himself. **

Chapter 7  
Choices

Poseidon turned around and saw his dark garbed older brother. He grinned and moved forward, reaching out for the other male. He gripped his wrist strongly and shook his hand. The man dressed simply in a black, well tailored, suit. His black shoes were shined; his black hair was braided neatly at the back of his neck. His pale skin made Poseidon flinch. All gods enjoyed the warmth of the sun, all gods but the god that stood before him, "Brother," he said fondly as he let go and stepped back. He rubbed the wrist that his older brother had held, as it was as cold as ice.

Hades looked around the man's room before he strode over to the fireplace and lit up a fire. He sat down, crossed his arms around his knees and stared into the fire. His face constantly changed from young and innocent to old and worn. He reflected ages that death claimed a victim. Every so often he would flinch. The death of a mortal was a death that he felt. The more deaths at the same time would hurt him more.

"You are forgetting the deal," Hades whispered as the ravages of death marked his body. "Every time you get close to the mortal child you are coming closer to breaking our deal," he looked up briefly at Poseidon. It was enough for the younger god to look away. Poseidon wasn't around death; he distanced himself from the mortal disease, but Hades embraced the punishment that his younger brothers had tricked him into.

Poseidon stood away from the fire and from the male that sat there. He never liked being around the man, he always felt like a child that was first learning how to walk.

"I would never break the deal," he said. He felt the lie settle heavy in his stomach, "I hated the deal, as I know that you did."

Hades shrugged, "Persephone has not given me a child, I have gotten nothing from her but censure and hatred, but what did I expect?" he asked tiredly, "gods are not meant to know love, not for long," he said. He pushed himself back to his feet and brushed his hands down his pants. He shook his head. He turned to regard his brother. He knew that every god had sought love at one point but they pursued with passion and zeal that was tempered with immaturity. They did not woo carefully, they could take time and the partners that they saw would fade. It was the curse of being immortal; they were doomed to love those that would fade.

Poseidon sighed and walked to the window, he looked towards the sea, dark from the night and the storm that was breaking off of the coast. Time moved around him as his mind wandered. If he didn't keep a careful hold of himself years could pass and he would never know. He felt a heavy, cold hand land on his shoulder. He reached up and briefly grasped his brother's hand, "I have not forgotten the deal," he said softly. "I have no intention of ever breaking the deal."

"You know how mortals are, Brother, we never have the intention of doing anything until it is done," Hades murmured, "but when we had children by modern mortals we helped make a war catastrophic. We cannot allow such carnage to happen again."

The sea-god pulled away, "carnage happens every day; mortals kill one another on a scale that we have never seen. They are godless; they aren't even killing in a god's name. They are killing for the simple joy of bathing in blood. They are like the Titans or the dark-ones. They take and take and every bit of good in this world is corrupted under waste. They blame one another and no one tries to fix anything. They are killing this world and we have to stay away because we helped them kill one another. They killed one another on the same scale during the Trojan War but the war took so much longer. We still picked sides; we instigated and picked, poked and cajoled to make mortals spill blood in our names. They turned against us and we are still supposed to protect them from them? How? Why?" he asked, rare anger building up and boiling over.

"You do not feel the death that I feel," Hades said. His voice was an echo of pain and misery. He sounded like he had lived long and had just been born, innocence tainted with disaster, hope mingled with despair. "They kill because they are lost, because they are teetering on the brink of genius. They have their science that tells them so much but it doesn't tell them what would happen after death. They have their faith, a primal belief in us but they don't have proof. Once, we were able to give them proof, to pass them stories that they took as comfort. They were rewarded for doing good and punished for doing bad. They are able to find cures for diseases but are constantly pushed back by new, more powerful diseases. Balance… they are trying to change the balance."

Poseidon sighed; Hades was not a god that dealt in war. Men were afraid of him; they hardly swore an oath to his name, yet his power had never diminished over the years. He was the primal force that science could not understand. He was death, science explained life and what happened with the body after the soul was gone but nothing about the soul. Science had yet to find the soul. "Why can we no longer bear children with the mortals? Because of the war?"

The god of death shook his head, "that is what we tell everyone. I am in contact with the other gods," he saw his brother bristle, "don't look like that. Just because we were once in the top tier does not mean that we are any longer. All of the gods have agreed that none of them are going to have children with mortals. We can speak of the prophecies and the heroes that come from our bloodlines but it is more than that. When they reach of age and their god-powers awaken it's not just the powers but their genetic make-up that changes. They are demi-gods, Poseidon, and it is hard to hide a demi-god from scientists that would like nothing more than to cut into them and figure out their secrets. Do we wish that on our own children? Are we that cruel?"

Poseidon shrugged, "give it a few decades and this will pass, there will be a dark age and they will be set backwards, it always happens."

"You are too optimistic," Hades said as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I will leave you alone but I mean for you to hold onto the deal. Peace is tenacious and I don't want it ruined."

"Goodbye, Brother," Poseidon said as tried to focus on Sally and how sweet her innocent kiss was. He felt Hades' presence fade, and he hit the wooden post with his fist. He hated rules, the chafed him. The rule that he was not to be with a mortal woman and give her children was more than an annoyance, it was cruel. Children gave the people someone to care for and love in the place of the god that they had. It was true that gods were the best lovers but the mortals never got over having a god in their bed.

If he was a kind god he would stop touching Sally, and he would stop responding to her touches. He wasn't a kind god and he would keep going after her but he wasn't going to stop touching her.

Hades stopped outside and he stood by the waves. His shoulders were slumped as he gazed out over the sea, the kingdom of his brother. He closed his eyes, and opened his arms, "I know that you're here," he whispered. He turned around, "have you talked with the young woman?"

The male stood in the shadows, "no," he said, his voice light, "so what if she bears a bouncing baby brat?"

"Go talk to her, please," Hades said, issuing the please as an afterthought, "I have tried with Poseidon and he's not listening, he's more determined than ever to do what he wants. If you try to talk with Sally and fail, then at least we know that we try."

"Fine, but only because you and I play for the same side, you maintain balance and I am a balance force and I bring about change. I don't like trying to keep things the same," the male walked down the beach towards the Jackson house. He walked through the door, not bothering to open it. He paused, listening to the man of the house speaking quietly to his wife. He wanted to stop and listen more but the dark room tucked at the back of the house was where the young mortal woman was. He walked to the door and pressed his ear to it. He could hear the even sound of her breathing and he opened the door.

She lay on top of the covers, her red hair fanning out around her. Her white nightgown was twisted tight on her hips as she slept peacefully, an arm thrown over the pillow. He sat down next to her and reached out, his hand hovering over her forehead. Slowly, he breathed out. Balance and change was hard to manage. The chains rattled on his wrists, he was breaking every law by being there but like the Greeks, he had alternate forms that permitted him to travel, even for a brief time outside of his prison. He thought to his wife, the woman that protected him as best she could from the venom that his siblings cursed him to endure.

His dark form seemed to ripple as if he were looking through water instead of being there in the flesh. Coal black eyes gained intensity: "Sally Jackson," he whispered to her, calling her back from her dreams, "Macha, do not interfere," he ordered, turning to see the raven-clad woman, "I mean it, I have had enough of Celtic gods to last me a lifetime, now, shoo, I won't hurt her," he promised before he turned back to Sally, "I only want her to make a choice, I am a big fan of choices."

"That is not part of the deal that we made," Macha growled, "She does not get a choice."

"Ah, and that is where you are wrong, when we don't give them choices then a war like the Great War erupts. Let me give her a choice, and then the prophecy forks and we get a new one. According to all of our prophets, yours and the Greeks included, there is a time of darkness coming and she either brings the savior or the destroyer. Poseidon is mentioned as the father but they never say to whom. Boudicca was given a choice and she chose right. If you have no faith in your bloodline then take away her choice but if you want to give her a fighting chance…" he wheeled and dealed, his eyes bright with anticipation as his hand stretched out and rested over Sally's brow, "let me give her a choice Macha, one choice and then her life is no longer her own. Then she is tied, forever, to a god that will leave her."

Macha looked at the sleeping woman, she thought back to Boudicca and the battles that she had led. Sally was not a woman that would lead battles or inspire millions but she was a woman that would love deeply and lose nearly everything. The path that would be started would be hard and long and she would do it alone, "I could protect her and make the choice for her but…"she sighed, "give her the choice Loki, let her see what could happen and at the end, I will take her memory and she will walk her path blind."

"Evil bitch," Loki grimaced as his hand moved to the young girl and rested against her forehead.

Sally's dream where she was kissing Poseidon shifted. She was walking down the beach alone, her arms wrapped around her rounded stomach. She saw him come from the sea. She cried out to him and ran out to him, but he brushed past her and disappeared. The sea rose over her head and she was holding tight to the hand of a dark haired child. He smiled at her, pulled her to the surface, kissed her cheek and disappeared under the water. She was left alone, treading the water. She cried out as it bubbled around her, burning her skin. She cried out for Poseidon but was pulled under. She saw a woman dressed in a white dress. She reached pleadingly out for her and the woman pulled her close. She kissed her cheek and dragged her to the shore.

She was left, panting on the cold sand. She rolled to her side and cried as the scene shifted and she was in New York City, in a cluttered apartment, she was left standing alone as the sky turned dark. The birds flew by her window, screaming in warning. She looked towards the empire state building and heard the thunder, prepared herself for the lightning's strike but saw nothing. Dread spread out through her body and she collapsed in fear. She saw Poseidon walking towards her, his hand reaching out for her. She gripped his hand and was pulled close to him. The burns from the water brightened in color and she was held in the arms of a dark eyed, red haired god. Water rushed around her ankles again as she cried out in pain.

Macha reached out, stilling Loki's hand, "give her the choice."

Loki nodded, "Sally," he whispered to her, "you don't have to go through that, you can have this instead," he promised as he made the scene change, "this is what you could have."

Sally whimpered as the pain receded. She was walking alone on the beach, there was no Poseidon moving up to meet her. No child smiling at her, no darkness on the horizon. She was alone. She wrapped her arms around herself. She stepped into the water, the cold rushing around her. She shook her head and as rain fell from the heavens.

_Make your choice, Sally Jackson. No pain, no worry. A chance for a human love._

The invasive dream-voice nearly jolted her awake but she shivered and fell back into the dream, into the cold. "Poseidon," she whispered softly, "Poseidon please…"

Warm arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against his strong form, "I'm here, Sally," he promised her, his rough voice soothing her.

Loki looked up at Macha and shrugged, "she made her choice. For eighteen months of happiness, she is willing to have a lifetime of sacrifice."

Macha reached out and ran her hand over the girl, erasing the dream and the memory of it from her mind. The girl fell back into a deep sleep, "she is much like Boudicca," Macha said, "I gave her much of the same choice. Though her choice was a chance to overthrow Rome, knowing that she would fail."

"Well, that was a stupid choice, why'd she pick it?" Loki asked as he stood up and away from the bed, he heard his wife calling to him, warning him that his siblings were coming to check on him.

Macha shrugged, "she saw her daughters, the ones she would never have if she didn't take that choice. She saw her children as something worth taking the chance for, even though she failed. At least her name is remembered in the history books."

Loki started to fade as he was pulled back, three heavy boulders showing up, a snake twined above his head, venom poised to drip on him. "Sally won't be lucky enough to be remembered by any," he said before he was pulled back into his hell completely.

Macha shook her head as she walked from the house; she had given the woman the choice. Hades had tried to talk to Poseidon, and Loki had tried his hand at influencing the woman. Poseidon and Sally were fighting against fate, trying to be together even though three tiers of gods were trying to keep them apart.

"Their boy is fighting to be born, maybe it's a good thing," she whispered as lightning split the sky. The earth rumbled in rage. Some would say that Gaea was trying to be freed; others thought that it was Loki crying out in pain as the snake dripped venom on him during the times that his wife couldn't protect him. She thought to Boudicca and her daughters, the god Ares, the deal that was made even though it was already broken. The lies that gods said even though they claimed that they couldn't. Horrible wars, bloodshed, everything that was yet to come started at that moment with the earth crying out under her feet.

"Gods bless you, Sally Jackson, for your sacrifice. May you find some peace later in life," she whispered as she disappeared, the sound of hounds echoing down the beach as she returned to her territory to alert her brethren about the choice that was made.

Sally slept on, oblivious to what was going on.

Poseidon stood by the window, looking out towards Sally's house.

She whispered his name.

He heard it and smiled faintly, "good night Sally, sleep and have pleasant dreams of me."

**A.N. That's it for Chapter 7, I'm slowly setting up for the sequel to this story as we speak. Don't worry, there is still at least five to six chapters left, if not more for this story. The sequel is after the Percy Jackson series but still revolves around Poseidon and Sally. In the works currently is a Hades/Persephone story but that is an original story that has no basis in the Percy Jackson universe. Hope everyone has enjoyed this chapter. **


	8. The Unknown God

**A.N. Thanks to all of those who added me to their author/story subscription and to those that reviewed. You have no idea how much I love reading the reviews that my readers leave. I've got these last chapters mapped out; you're looking at, at least 10 more chapters by the way that my mind is thinking. No, that doesn't mean that my version of Sally and Poseidon are done. I have the sequel plotted out in my mind already. 3 **Obligatory** I own nothing; Rick Riordan created Sally's fantastic character and his interpretation of the Greek gods. All other characters mentioned in this story come from my head. (Though I still don't know if I own them either…) **

Chapter 8 

_Sally…Sally, it's time to wake up, I have a promise to keep to you. Sally, Sally…NUALA! _

She was jerked awake with the incessant cajoling of her pretend-boyfriend. She looked at him blearily before with a groan she rolled over and pulled the blanket over her head, "too early, 'm on vacation," she muttered.

"And I only have 17 months in which to be with you," he responded, as he rested his hand on her head and smoothed it downwards, resting on her shoulder. "You only have one month of summer until you go back to school and it will be that much harder for me to be with you," he had to remind her. He took a chance, sliding down her bed and laying next to her. He waited for her to kick him, or to demand him from her bed. She did neither. Instead, she stayed curled up in her blankets. Her eyes stayed closed. He smirked and leaned in, kissing her nose and across her lightly freckled face, "Sally, wake up," he whispered.

She grunted, and tried to pull the blanket up and over her head, "how are you going to be with me when I'm at school anyway?" she grumbled, doubting that even god powers could help him blend into her high school.

He laughed as if reading her thoughts, "ah, Sally…I will be around," he promised her as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. "Come on, Woman, you take longer to wake up than any other that I've seen."

"You've seen so many," she retorted, as she peered out from under the blankets. She seemed to be more awake, as he kept holding her.

He smirked, "are you jealous?" he asked, a pleased feeling spreading across his chest. He sighed as he rolled to his back, pulling the young woman with him, so that she sprawled across his chest. "Sally, for right now, there is only you," he promised her, brushing a kiss over her forehead and down her cheek. He froze when he felt her body stiffen, "what'd I say?"

"For now?" she questioned.

"It won't be forever, and I won't lie to you and say that it will be," he said honestly, as he looked over her face and saw the slight hurt there. "It's just a bet, remember?"

She had to be reminded, she hated that in her. _The first man to show interest in me, and he has to be a god that wants nothing more than to win a bet and get back with his wife. _

She climbed out of bed, pulling her blanket with her and wrapped it around her waist, "what is your plans for today?" she asked him.

"We're going to the fair, aren't we?" he asked. He leaned up on one arm and looked her over. _Skinny, tall, bright red hair, small bosomed, she is a young woman that might grow into her body if given time. If I came back in ten years, what would she look like? Twenty? Would she look different? Will she still be the vivacious Sally Jackson that she is now? _

He doubted it.

_I will never know, _he came to the realization slowly as she dropped the blanket and pulled on her dressing gown, gathered some clothes and left the room, closing the door too hard. He flinched, _and I made her angry. At least I am being honest with her. Would she like it better if I lied to her? _

She leaned against the door and closed her eyes, _would I like it better if he lied to me? _She thought to herself before she looked down at the jeans and the black t-shirt that she had grabbed. _At least I have right now, _she thought resolutely as she squared her shoulders and walked into the bathroom. She showered, got dressed and dried her hair. With her hair pulled up and out of her face, she gave herself one last look. _High cheekbones, green eyes, red hair, and freckles, I am my father's daughter. _She thought.

Sally walked to the bedroom and opened the door. It was clean, at least her bed. He had made it for her. She looked around the room, spotted him by the door, and walked over to him, "Poseidon?" she asked, and she saw the faraway look in his eyes. Carefully, she reached out and put a hand on his arm, "I'm ready, if you are," she offered.

He thought to his wife, someone that was creeping more and more into his thoughts. There was little that he could do but compare her to the woman that was his way to obtaining her. Amphitrite was everything in way of beauty but nothing in way of substance. She wouldn't argue with him, instead she would storm off and leave him there. _Sally is the first one to really stand her ground and fight against me, knowing who I am, _he shook his head when he felt her touch his arm. He looked down at her and smiled faintly, _if only she were a god. _

"I'm ready," he promised as he slipped his hand down and held onto hers. He walked with her through the house. He paused, "where is your mother and father?"

She squeezed his hand and tried to keep him from stopping, "mom had to go to the hospital for her bi-weekly checkup. She refuses to have a nurse here with her, so dad has to bring her in to visit her doctor. She's stubborn."

"Like you," he commented and allowed her to bring him outside. He walked by her side, not offering conversation. Margaret didn't like him but she had the same spunk as her daughter, perhaps more so, as he learned that she was refusing to be treated like an invalid. She was every bit worthy of Macha's patronage. He missed taking on families, watching as their descendents did something in the world, changed it somehow. He had stopped taking on favorites when he realized that all they did was live, breed and die. He lost the spark of wonder when he had married his wife.

It was why gods used to frequent and be with mortals. They had a spark of life in them that burned quick, bright and hot. He was attracted to that light, wanted it for himself. Living forever was the challenge that came. A god's light burned much slower, didn't hold as much heat and held nothing to a mortal's passionate zest for the brief life they were given.

He walked with her to the fair and paid admission with a card that all gods' carried when they walked among mortals, when they rarely did.

Sally reached over and grabbed the card when they entered the fair, "Poseidon Danakolokis?"

He let her keep the card, "Danakolokis is a common enough surname and people don't ask questions."

"Ah," she handed the card back and walked beside him. The fair was noisy, dirty but exciting. Children shrieked as they ran by her, tired parents wandered past with an apologetic smile. "Oh! Let's win a fish," she said as she saw the sign for goldfish and they only had to get a hoop around a glass neck.

Poseidon wrinkled his nose, "it's a goldfish." He let her pull him over and watched as she dove into her pocket, pulled out a wrinkled dollar and handed it to the worker. "One bucket please," she requested and then put it in the middle of the two of them. _  
_"No cheating," she ordered him, as she picked up the first hoop, took aim and tossed. It arched through the air, spiraled and landed between the bottle necks, barely missing the prize. "Damn it," she swore.

He sighed as he picked up a hoop and flicked it, not using his powers as she had told him. He watched expectedly, bored as the hoop went up, bounced off of a bottle and clattered against the floor. "What?" he asked in disbelief. He looked over at Sally who was doing her best not to smile. "Let me try again," he ordered as he grabbed another hoop, tossed it and watched as the same happened. He frowned, took a deep breath and grabbed another hoop, Sally did the same. Together they emptied the bucket and both were left standing without a prize. He saw the disappointment on her face and he pulled out two dollars, materializing it from his pocket and promised Zeus that he would pay him back later. He gestured that he wanted two buckets and then stood with his arms crossed over his chest until they were given to him. He grunted in thanks, pushed a bucket over to Sally and kept a bucket for him. "Now, play," he ordered.

She laughed when he got involved with the game; she tossed one hoop after another. Each one hit off of the bottle or against the wooden railing, crashing to the floor. Poseidon didn't seem to be having any better luck. With one last hoop in her hand and one last hoop in Poseidon's, they threw together. The hoops arched, spun once and both landed over the same bottle.

Poseidon stood in shock as Sally jumped up and hugged him in delight. Two fish were held up and Poseidon nodded, "keep them here until we're done," he ordered, his tone allowing no argument.

Sally grabbed his hand, "did you see that? We landed on the same bottle!" The excitement kept bubbling as they walked away from the game. They stopped and got two slices of pizza and sat down. Poseidon moved an arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. She smiled and leaned against him as she ate her pizza, "what now?"

He looked around and he focused on the fun house, "how about that?" he asked her as he finished his pizza and cleaned his hands with a napkin. He stood up and pulled her against him, he didn't want her to turn down the chance to go into the fun house. Instead, he kissed her nose and led her over to it. He kept her hand as they walked in. She shrieked as the floor underneath her feet started moving, forcing her to move against Poseidon as they walked.

_She's soft, _he thought to himself as her form moved against his body. He sucked in his breath as he wrapped his hands around her waist and picked her up, moving her to more solid ground and then stepped off.

She laughed and darted away from him, disappearing down a long hall full of mirrors.

The challenge of having a woman run from him was enough for the god to give chase. He walked forward, his right hand out and braced against the mirror. He saw her many forms dancing away from him, and she coyly looked over her shoulder and winked at him before she seemingly disappeared. He kept walking, determined to find her.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders suddenly and leapt on his back, kissing his cheek, "got you," she whispered in his ear before she gave in to temptation and nibbled in his ear.

A direct shot to his groin and he swung her around, into his arms and against one of the mirrors. A dark purr rumbled from his chest as he tipped her head back and laid claim to her mouth. A leg pressed between hers and pressed up her. A moan answered his ministrations.

_Fire and heat¸_ he thought as his lips parted hers. She pressed into the kiss, not one to submit blindly but instead demanded pleasure and gave it in return. His hand wandered up the back of her shirt and slowly around her front.

Someone tapped him on his shoulder and he growled.

"This is a family run establishment, I am going to have to ask you to leave," a security guard said.

Poseidon's eyes flashed dangerously but Sally caught his hand as he lowered her back to the ground, "we have fish to pick up first," he muttered as he swept her behind him, giving her a moment to compose her clothes and appearance. The guard tried to look around him and Poseidon snapped his fingers, "keep your eyes off of my woman," he ordered.

"Your woman?" the security guard asked, he smirked darkly and Poseidon stepped back. The security guard didn't move. His amber eyes glinted with mischief and darkness, his blond h hair was held back with a simple cord. Something in the man's attitude had hit a chord with him. They felt related, somehow. He thought through the twelve Olympians, his siblings and came up with nothing.

_Run, _the cautious side warned, _ask no questions and run. Run Poseidon, you do not talk to Agnostos Theo, do not draw his attention. Let him win this and he will leave you alone. _

The Unknown God, the shifter of forms and shape. The one that was all that never had a name. Poseidon knew who he was. He was a god that was not immortal by birth but by design. The mortals had prayed to Agnostos Theos in case there was a god that they had forgotten about and since he was forged out of the fear of being forgotten, he was a god that was just as immortal as those that were birthed. He loved a challenged and tended to wait to be with the women and men that the gods left behind. Poseidon gripped Sally's hand and turned around stiffly, pulling her to his side, "we're leaving," he promised the other, he did not want Sally in the god's grasp. He had heard of women being driven insane from Agnostos Theos' nightly visits and the children of such a union never survived. They were always born still and blue.

As a god, he had no one to pray to, no higher power but himself. _Zeus, brother… you promised to keep all of the gods away from Sally and me. Agnostos Theos is here, meddling before the bet is over. We were given eighteen months; you have to hold to that. _

Zeus' rumbled laughter was his answer, but when Poseidon looked over his shoulder he didn't see Agnostos Theos. He breathed a sigh of relief and brushed a kiss over Sally's head.

"I am sorry about that, _latria mou,_I did not mean to get us caught," he said, downplaying the danger of the situation and the feeling of dread that ran through his body. Sally would see Agnostos Theos again and there was nothing that he could do to protect her. It was Agnostos Theos' right to claim the people that the gods used and got rid of. He was the god that held sway over those that were forgotten.

Sally's face was deep red as they walked, she sensed Poseidon's anger, "It's okay, really," she promised as she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. She saw a mother and her two children and she looked away quickly. _Are my lips bruised? My shirt rumpled? Can everyone tell that we were just kicked out from the fair because we got caught by a security guard? _She asked herself.

Poseidon stopped her at the game that they had played earlier and held out his hand for the fish. He looked at the two that were handed to him and saw that they were in poor health. The dying creatures swam against the bags, knowing who Poseidon was as any marine animal did. He looked at the pitiful creatures before he nodded once. The fish would live as long as Sally did, something for her to remember him by. "Here, take your fish," he said as he passed over the two goldfish to her, "I will give you an aquarium when we get back."

She grinned, her mind diverted from what had happened and to the fish. She held up the bags and saw the small fish as they swam around, constantly keeping Poseidon in their sights. "Now, what to name them…" she watched them, "Flipper and Keiko."

He scoffed, "Flipper was a dolphin and Keiko was an orca."

"Yes, I give them big names so they have a reason to live up to it," she explained.

"I hate to see what you would name your son then," he commented as they walked down the surf and away from the town and the fair. The sun was setting; their time at the fair had passed faster than he had hoped. Time always passed by faster when he was around the woman.

She threw him a look, "my sons will have good names. Who knows, I might name them Jacob," he wrinkled his nose, "Jason," another nose wrinkle, "Percy."

"…Percy?" he asked as she stepped into the oncoming tide and kept walking, her footprints swallowed by the waves, "woman, why would you ever curse a boy with the name of Percy?"

"Perseus," she teased, "it's a strong name isn't it? I thought that you'd like it."

He looked dumbfounded, "Perseus was a great hero, it is a name worthy to any boy born to your line but calling him 'Percy…' "

"It's settled then, since you dislike it that much, just for you, I will name my firstborn son Perseus and I will call him Percy," she said stubbornly as she fell back against him as they walked, "it's not like you will ever see any of my children," she pointed out rationally.

He sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, "woman, have I ever told you that you are stubborn enough to try the patience of a god?"

She nodded as they slowed their walk, "the greek gods were never known to be patient but I am glad that I am enough to annoy you. Someone has to."

He saw her house, and he pulled her to a stop, put his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her again, "don't go home tonight," he whispered to her, "come to my house," he asked against her lips.

She wavered, it was a bet. She had been reminded of that, but her body still sang with the thrill of his hand against her bare skin. She was a woman in his eyes, desirable. "All right," she decided finally as she wrapped her arms around him. She gasped as she was picked up, one arm slung under her back and the other under her knees.

He walked with her, cradling her close.

"Nuala!"

He groaned as her father's voice washed over them, he considered silencing the man but either way, Sally would not be his that night. He put her down and rested a hand on her shoulder.

Randolph rushed out from the house and hurried up to his daughter, his face was pale, "I tried to find you, your mother… she had to be hospitalized. You have to come with me, now!" he ordered as he reached out and pulled at her arm.

Her world fell around her. Her mother, in the hospital. Fear reared its head and she nodded mutely, her voice gone. "Poseidon," she whispered, "don't leave me," she begged, as she felt him slipping away from her.

He stopped when he heard her broken, small voice. Resolutely, and regardless if Margaret liked him or not, he was not going to allow Sally to be alone, not that night, "I won't leave you, ever, I promise," he whispered.

Zeus, sitting high on his throne heard his brother make a promise to the young woman. "Promises hold power," he whispered as he smoothed his hand over his neat beard, he grunted as he sat up and forward. _…won't leave you, ever, I promise. _

"Such a strong promise to make to a mortal and you will have no choice but to live up to that promise. No matter what is done, it seems like fate is determined to keep you together."

He cursed the sister-fates. He hated being pawns in their games and he had a feeling that the biggest game was yet to come.

**A.N. So ends chapter 8. I know, tease and deny when it comes to the two lovebirds but I have something planned for the next chapter and no, you will see more of the unknown god but not in the way that you think. Everything for a reason my darlings. So… write and review, tell me what you think. The next chapter might be done tomorrow, if not it will be done on Sunday. I plan on wrapping this story up by Christmas and starting the sequel by new years. **


	9. Flutters

**A.N. Thanks to all of my reviewers and those that added my story to their favorites list. As to those that keep reminding me that Sally is not as Rick Riordan wrote her. I understand that, that is the point. I promise that everything will make sense later. **

**Chapter 9**

She clung to his hand as Randolph drove them through quiet town. She worried at her lower lip and looked out of the window. Her mind was cast in a fog; she was unable to work through the basic task of trying to remember what she was doing prior to being in the car. "Dad, she's going to be all right isn't she?" she asked, her voice sounded shrill, small, childlike.

Randolph looked in the rearview mirror, his eyes were rimmed with red, "Nuala, we don't know," he whispered, "the doctors are doing all that they can for her, but she's always been weak."

Poseidon was confused; the woman had no aura of sickness about her. She seemed tired, but she had matched his challenge with one of her own. She protected her daughter in a way that quietly supported her husband at the same time. Curiosity begged that he ask her what was wrong with the woman but logic told him to wait. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and did his best to comfort her.

As the car pulled into the hospital, and Sally got out, he sat for a moment. He had seen warriors killed in battle, animals sacrificed in his name and even wars fought for him but he never liked the smell of sickness and death, that was his brother's territory though rumor had it that he didn't care for the smell either. He opened the door and stepped out, taking her hand before he closed the door behind him. He walked by her side and through the doors. He reeled back when the scent first hit him and he had to fight to will away the scent. He breathed out through his mouth; the cleaning solutions mixed with death did nothing to his resolve.

Sally cast him a worried glance, any other day she would have made fun of him for the pallor of his skin. Her mother's face swam in her mind and she shook her head. He was here with her, and he didn't have to be. It was not the time to tease him about something he didn't like.

Together, they walked down the brightly lit hallways. Nurses dressed in bright scrubs decorated in fairies, flowers or Disney characters seemed out of place. Doctors walked by with their heads bent, looking over files that referred to patients as the disease instead of the name. Randolph entered the room first and walked up to his wife, sitting down heavily in the chair beside her, "Nuala is here," he whispered as he nuzzled the side of her face and kissed her cheek.

Margaret was pale, her skin had a slight yellow cast, and her eyes were black from lack of sleep. "Hello, Nuala," she whispered, as she smiled at her daughter, "I'll be okay," she promised faintly, "you know how these doctors get."

Sally stepped forward and then froze, her mother, the strength and pillar of their family was lying in bed, a tube in her nose and an I.V. in her arm. "Hey, Mom," she said as she neared the side of the bed, she reached out for her hand, saw the IV and faltered.

Margaret reached out and took her daughter's hand, "it's all right, Sally," she said then looked over her shoulder and saw Poseidon, "did I ruin your date?"

He shook his head mutely as he stayed by the door, "No, we were headed back to your house," he said, declining to admit that he had almost gotten her daughter in bed. _That wouldn't go over well if I tried that. _

Sally breathed out slowly, "you'll be okay…" she tried to say, even as she saw the strain on her mother's face as she fought to stay awake.

Randolph watched his wife, "Sally, I think you and Poseidon should go home for the night. I will call you if anything changes, your mother needs her rest," he explained.

She made a note of protest, as Poseidon came and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Come on, Sally," he whispered. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and led her out of the room. She collapsed against him as they walked out and he held onto her, supporting her as they walked.

"He didn't give me the keys," she said when they arrived at the car, "I have to go back in and - "

He shook his head, "I can get you home," he said as he held her against his chest and allowed the mist from the sea to wrap around them. He brought them back to the beach before he pulled away from her, "you're back."

She looked around, bewildered. Her hands rested on his arms, slowly sliding down, as she pulled away, "why can't you make my mom better?" she asked lamely.

Poseidon knew that she would ask him, and he braced himself for her anger, "your mother does not believe in the Greek gods. While we still exist, we have no control over her or your family. The same pertains to every other god. In order for us to have sway, and influence, there must be a measure of belief. She knows I exist, but she doesn't believe in me, so I can't help her."

She was too numb to get angry. She turned away from him and walked towards her house, stepping inside. She looked around; everything was as it should be. Her parents had left the house clean, there were cookies on the table and a note saying that leftovers were in the fridge. She felt tears pricking behind her eyes as she read through the note. Her mother thought of her before she went in to get her tests done, before they realized that she was in worse shape than they had thought previously.

"Sally, what is wrong with your mother?" Poseidon asked faintly as he walked into the kitchen. He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back against him.

"Congenital heart failure, her heart is too weak to support her and the medicine that she takes always makes her sick," she whispered, "she was okay before I was born but my birth was hard and she never fully recovered. The older she gets, the more her heart fails her. She has days when she's strong and being here seemed to help her but nothing ever lasts for long."

He saw the strain weighing down her body and tightened his hold on her, "I am sorry, if I could do something, I would," he answered honestly. He had considered it before he had learned that Margaret was protected by the Goddess Macha and Macha was not a god that he wanted to side against.

She turned around and wrapped her arms around his middle, her head resting on his chest, "be with me," she said, her voice falling calm, "I don't want to think about my mother and what is happening, make me forget," she begged.

"Sally," he kept his voice neutral, he was not a god that could turn down the offer of Sally's body, "think about what you're asking," he warned as he fought to keep his hands from moving down her pliant form.

She pushed against him, "I am thinking, it's what I want,"

He groaned and swept her up into his arms. She may hate him in the morning but she was going to enjoy him that night.

Tumultuous hours were spent locked in passion. She gave, he took, he taught, she learned. She cried out his name and her name was what he whispered against her in bliss. When she tired, he held her against his chest and smoothed a hand down her hair. She slept against him, hardly moving as the night faded into day.

The phone jarred them awake, he reached for it and brought it over to Sally who put it to her ear, "'ello?" she asked hoarsely, "dad?" she paused and collapsed against Poseidon, "I understand, I'll make sure that everything is packed," she handed the phone back to Poseidon and sat up, "we're going home," she explained as she smoothed her hands over her hair. "Mom wants to go home and Dad can't say no to her, not now," there was a sad note of finality in her voice as she slid from bed and winced, her body was tender and sore.

She looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes were bright, and her lips were bruised. She didn't look any different. She wasn't more beautiful, there wasn't a sign that proclaimed her as a woman. She was still Nuala "Sally" Jackson, a girl who had loved a god. She jerked at that thought, _loved? No…I had sex with him, I don't love him, I can't love him… I can't… _She covered her face with her hands. She would lose her mother and her first lover. She inhaled sharply when his hand touched her shoulder, and she managed to smile at him, _I will pretend for a little while that I don't love him, and then the bet continues. I can keep him for a little while longer. _

He watched her in the mirror, saw how her skin glowed from what they had done, how her body instinctually turned towards him when he neared her, _She's in love with me, _he thought to himself, feeling her body jar against his when he touched her. _For a little while, I will pretend that I don't see it, and then the bet continues. I can stay with her for a little while longer. _

His hand moved down to her abdomen and he paused. A faint, flutter of life beat within her. It was too soon to say if the life would stay but as each second passed; the flutter became stronger, more determined. He bent down and kissed her shoulder.  
_Ah, Sally Jackson, I am sorry. _

Up in Olympus, Zeus sat back, the anger welled up. What had started out as a bet, a way to get his brother away from Mount Olympus while he took pleasure in Amphitrite was gone. In its place came the raw anger that came with a deal, a _promise_ that had been broken. The three Brothers were not permitted to have children. With the deal broken, all that could happen was chaos and bloodshed. He reached out for his lightning bolt and stopped.

Poseidon had broken the truce, true, but so had Zeus.

He bit down on the inside of his cheek and relaxed, he would wait till the bastard son of Poseidon and the mortal woman was grown and he would let Fate play as it wished. He would cast blame on his brother for breaking the truce. He would claim that the truce was nullified after Poseidon had slept with the woman, which allowed him to dally with the woman that he had taken a liking to.

He smiled as he disappeared, reappearing as if he were mortal to the loving arms of a woman who worshipped him.

It was his brother's fault, but he would reap the benefits.

**A.N. A rather short chapter compared to the rest of them but the chapter needed to end here. I am unsure if I will be updating over Thanksgiving break but I will try. Remember to go to my profile and vote in my poll to see what TWO stories I will be writing as the New Year starts. Seamist and Butterflies will continue as will the planned sequel. I hope that everyone has a safe holiday. **


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